


vent poetry for absolutely no one's soul

by aberdeenwills



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crying, Eating Disorders, M/M, Molestation, Ouch, Pederasty, Poetry, Rape/Non-con Elements, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 12:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20082325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aberdeenwills/pseuds/aberdeenwills
Summary: Uhhhhhhhhh I'm not even gonna touch this. Here's some poems that I wrote for venting purposes.Here's some disclaimers:I was never molested.I've never banged my teachers.I do not condone pedophilia, that goes without saying.I have not been diagnosed with an eating disorder.I've never been murdered.





	vent poetry for absolutely no one's soul

**requiem of the young olympian**

he left his crown of laurel on the pedagogue’s desk

next to a cold mug of coffee.

next to crumpled post-it notes

next to a milky stain. 

in years to come,

the leaves will rot,

the olympian will wither.

become fragile

bitter

_ old _ . 

undesirable. 

blond to grey

spry to brittle. 

he will become the pedagogue

searching for laurel crowns 

amongst the notes and coffees and stains. 

**puer delicatus** ( **ode to the catamite** )

o my beach boy

with skin of silken sand 

and waves of golden curl

i want to keep you young

want to lock you away

with no gnarled skin

no gaunt old face

i want you to be my forever catamite

my altar boy

o, my ganymede

i love you as one loves a garden

as one loves the fountain of youth

i’ll drink from you forever

my catamite,

o puer delicatus. 

show me you love me,

take my words in your mouth

take my tongue down your throat

drink my spit like communion wine.

**the bathtub (it’s a wonderful place)**

i like to bawl on the shower floor

and feel the dimpled plastic with my fingers. 

like to let the fresh hot water 

singe my woes. 

i’ve spent many a night mashing my vomit 

down the shower drain

rinsing mucous from my nose

because it all goes down. 

in the dry air, i’d have to use tissues

and soap

and water

and a few matches to rid of the acrid smell of bile. 

i’ve sat on the shower floor

ecstatic

writhing

manic

with the lights off and the music on

solving all my problems with droplets on the walls. 

i’ve ruled the world from the shower floor. 

i rule the world from my bathtub.

like a child in his little race-car bed

i’ve been both the king and the fool in my bathtub

i’ve scaled the peaks of mars

and cleaned the scum from the ocean’s trenches

all without leaving my beloved bathtub. 

**vulture man**

vulture man

i tell you that you’re sick

let your eyes tell me you know it too

when the tears burn your cheeks

profanities fly like birds from your mouth

while you put me through your wet mattress

heavy molasses curses

poured into my ears

you put your cotton in my throat

and your skinny fingers through my eyes

fuck them out with your fingernails

you take my vision, vulture man

take my body too

with the hammer’s chill upon my legs 

i’m grateful i can’t see

you bust my bones to splinters

and turn my ribs to dust

my stomach; a chunky tomato salsa

and my brain to sweet strawberry jam

vulture man

your cries are hot on my shoulders

your tears to salt my flesh

you fill me as i die

and tell my corpse you’re sorry

you worship me

reverent in my dismemberment

kiss me limb to limb

wrap me tender in trash bags

i can’t find my eyes. 

but they sit milky in your jar

my finger bones became your popsicle sticks

oh vulture man, i cannot leave you

my body is a jigsaw puzzle on your toy room shelf

forever ghosting

breathing

rasping

‘my vulture man, you are sick.’

**Author's Note:**

> the poems with themes of pedophilia are reflective of a time in my own life where I interacted with quite a few pedophiles, and fell victim to sexual abuse as a result. i was never physically harmed, but hey, I'm a pansy, and words hurt. 
> 
> bathtub was about a manic episode i had in my shower one time.


End file.
